The hook tore through flesh, catching hard in the meat of Phinks's cheek. The sudden, white-hot pain made even him see black for a second.
Worse was the blood. It poured from the wound in a thick red ribbon, arcing straight into Blinky's open mouth. Every drop that left him dragged another wave of weakness through his body.
Is this it? Am I actually dying here?
The line went taut. Phinks's head jerked up. A vicious glint flashed in his eyes. He raised his hand to rip the line free—
—but hesitated.
Even if he tore the hook out, it wouldn't stop the blood from being sucked away. Death already felt inevitable.
The next second his arm exploded forward anyway. He grabbed the hook buried in his face and tore it out in one brutal yank, taking half his cheek with it.
He didn't have time to care about the pain. Or the missing skin. Or the blood spraying everywhere.
Phinks clenched his fist and started spinning his arm, pouring everything he had left into the charge.
If he was going to die, he was taking at least one or two of them with him.
"He's going all in," Kurapika said, voice cold and steady.
At the same time he pulled another card from his book. The sight of it made Phinks's blood run even colder.
[Accompany].
Even if the card pulled them both away together, Phinks wouldn't be able to attack anyone while the transfer was happening. But the blood pouring out of him wouldn't stop just because they were moving.
Kurapika was going to make him watch himself bleed out.
Shizuku adjusted her glasses, a rare flicker of surprise crossing her face. Of all the spell cards they had, that one was probably the cruelest choice right now.
But it was also the smartest.
How long would it take to drain Phinks dry?
Two [Accompany] cards, maybe. And they didn't even need to go far. Just back to the starting point would be enough.
Phinks stopped moving.
The final, desperate surge of power died in his arm before it could finish building. The pain in his face had sharpened his mind instead of dulling it.
And in that terrible clarity, he couldn't find a single way out.
A streak of light cut across the sky again. When it faded, Ronin stepped out.
Phinks let out a short, bitter laugh and sank to the ground. The last half of his face twisted into something almost like a smile.
If Ronin was here, that meant Feitan had lost.
That bastard had probably gone into the fight ready to bet everything. He just hadn't expected to lose this fast. Ronin didn't even look winded—just a little dust on his coat.
"You win," Phinks said.
Maybe the real mistake had been not triggering [Leave] the second things went sideways. Or listening to Hisoka and grabbing defensive cards first instead of charging straight in like always.
Too late now.
Their little trio had never done things the quiet way. Feitan was still burning with rage, Lev didn't care how loud things got, and Phinks himself had always been the type to just go for it. The only possible outcome was making as much noise as possible, healing Lev as fast as they could, and getting the hell out of the game.
They just hadn't been fast enough. And when you couldn't beat the other side in a straight fight, dying here wasn't something worth complaining about.
Blood kept pouring out of him. Phinks's thoughts started to blur. His body tipped backward until he was lying flat on the ground.
When he'd lost more than half his blood, his breathing stopped. But the bleeding didn't.
Shizuku kept Blinky running until Phinks's corpse looked like a dried-out squid spread across the pavement. Only then did she finally shut the vacuum off.
"That guy actually broke the curse. Ruthless," Neon said. Her glowing prophecy text had already vanished from the air.
The second half of the curse had come true. The first half never got the chance—Phinks had ripped his own face off before it could finish.
Not that it mattered anymore.
"Every member of the Troupe's got that same mean streak," Ronin said, almost thoughtful. "Probably comes from growing up in Meteor City. You crawl out of a place like that and you learn to be tough as hell."
"Am I like that too?" Shizuku asked. She was still holding Blinky, hesitating over whether to suck up Phinks's body.
Neon had already walked over and crouched beside the corpse, eyes bright with interest. The dried-out face didn't look angry or hateful—just strangely peaceful, like the man had finally let go of something heavy.
It really did look like the kind of art piece Neon's curse had described.
"Yeah," Ronin said to Shizuku. "You've got that same toughness. Go ahead and store the body. We'll let Neon turn it into a proper specimen when we get the chance."
He didn't say it out loud, but Ronin already had his own plans for the remains. He only needed enough tissue to use as a medium for Edo Tensei. So far he had pieces from Uvogin, Phinks, and Feitan. With the right living sacrifices, he could bring all three of them back.
And if he gave them their own thoughts again… well. Dropping them on the opposite side of Chrollo would be interesting. Former Spider legs turning on their old boss. Chrollo would probably appreciate the irony.
Shizuku nodded. Neon looked thrilled.
Abachi finally walked over from a distance, a huge bundle of fishing gear slung across her back. Phinks's last guess had been right—her rod wasn't conjured. She could swap it out whenever she wanted. That sudden change, especially when she was still hidden, made her ability nasty in a fight. Hard for anyone to react in time.
This time the win belonged mostly to Shizuku for the blood drain. Abachi had done the important setup work with the hook. Neon and Kurapika had just added the finishing touches.
What Ronin really noticed was that Kurapika hadn't helped here at all.
Which probably meant he'd gone after Lev instead.